


Soft

by CamyusSnowman



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 19:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamyusSnowman/pseuds/CamyusSnowman
Summary: "Sometimes even the smallest of actions can bring about the greatest warmth from deep within your chest."





	Soft

Masato disturbed the comfortable silence settling in the dimly lit bedroom. “Thank you for today.”

It had been one of the rare times Masato got to spend with his little sister. His schedule was far too busy for anything other than a midday call to check in on Mai and Masato rarely missed the first opportunity that presented itself to do so. To ensure she was happy and eating well, the momentary thirty minutes brought relief to his mind.

The house had been empty when the both of them had arrived. It was to be expected as Camus had prior engagements to attend, but the unexpected came when even Alexander was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t Masato’s original intention to stay in the shared home for long anyway, only stopping by to retrieve an item for the outing.

_Mai had stuck close to his side but stared at her unfamiliar surroundings in wonder. The home wasn’t exactly your typical home, but more of a grand tower. Mai never thought that this is where Masato would be residing outside the family home. She was happy to have taken a closer look anyway._

 

**_Maybe..._ **

 

Camus blinked once, glancing up from some last-minute papers to look at Masato from the mirror on his vanity. The pen in his hand slowed to a stop. “...There is no need.” He replied before resuming his work.

When Camus had come home from his evening walk with Alexander, he didn’t expect to run into a young girl on his way to the bedroom. It didn’t take him longer than a second, though, to identify who she was. The Hijirikawa siblings looked incredibly alike in their blue hair and violet eyes, even the cut of said hair was similar. Although Camus did not regard himself as much of a family man, he knew how much Mai meant to Masato and greeted the girl with honeyed words.

A sigh. Masato watched as Camus resumed the current task at hand and walked over to the vanity he sat at, calmly directing him to begin getting ready for bed. When he got Camus to gaze at him, he whispered.

 

“Of course there is.”

 

Panicking was an understatement. Masato tried not to be obvious about it, but it had been his little sister; she had been by his side up until he had turned around to see why she had gotten so quiet. It didn’t take long for him to retrace his steps, stiff as he rushed to find her. She wasn’t in the corridors nor the living area— but he did hear a noise coming from one of the tea rooms. He could feel his heart pound within his chest at the sight of Camus and Mai together after rounding the corner.

It was as though time slowed for him.

_For starters, Masato was relieved Mai was all right. She was laughing as she placed one of the clips that had been in her hair on Alexander’s long fur, close by one of his ears. Alexander sniffed at the girl’s hand when it neared and didn’t resist as she tried giving him the clip. Masato almost missed Camus in the whole ordeal, and how... Camus was beautiful._

  
Even through the stray strands of hair misplaced by the cold wind outside, or through the long blonde hairs that had begun to fall into his lap from his friendly companion, and the scarf which was left nearly hanging— Camus was incredible. The man was also near effortlessly playing with Mai, treating her like a little lady.

_“Why Alexander does look much better with this new look. My, lady, your eye for aesthetic is prime even at your young age. It’s certainly impressive.” He chuckled as Mai beamed even brighter despite the hesitance still lurking in her eyes._

 

_Faint, but Masato read it clearly._

 

It was virtually like the hesitance hiding behind Camus’ own baby blue. When it came to speaking of his past, Masato was surprised to find he didn’t have to say or do much before Camus had given him his childhood story. He’d never forget the night it happened either, or how Camus had spoken about it so nonchalantly.

At least, after the few hour monologues regarding his family lineage—which Masato intently listened to each second of—before Camus had begun to recollect on the happenings he had been told occurred on the day of his birth. Then, he began sharing more information on his immediate family.

“To my parents, I am the sole child. I began servitude to my queen from age eight and inherited the title I have today when I was sixteen.”

_Masato didn’t think much of it then; he immediately sought to help Camus grow comfortable with the concept of family. But as time passed, he wondered if Camus was truly an only child._

 

**_‘To my parents, I am the sole child…’_ **

 

Another second and Camus’ eyes close shut. Masato had set to gently scratch at Camus' scalp. It was endearing to see him indulging himself now, his head teetering forward a fraction further as the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. Masato’s heart swells. A tender smile settles on his face. It was minuscule, faint, but he could feel the warmth of the whole encounter in his bones. His fingers twitched, Masato accused it on the change in step.

Masato picked up the brush from the vanity and set to move the bristles through Camus’ locks of hair, the ends of it resting against the soft flesh of his palm. He didn’t mean to alarm Camus, noting how he tensed a brief second prior to his eyes fluttering open. Masato tried his best not to be selfish a person, but this was one opportunity he decided to be selfish about regardless. He continued brushing Camus’ hair. Camus remained silent but inquisitive.

It only took a split second before red settled on Camus’ cheeks, glancing away as though he were being stared at— Masato, however, was focused on the present task.

Blearily, Camus could now feel Masato’s hand working his hair once more and observed his reflection in the vanity’s mirror under heavy lids. A strand taken over and across, again and again. Camus was amused, unaware that something as simple as braiding his hair had been Masato’s destination. A low but quiet chuckle rumbled out from his chest, closing his eyes only after recognizing the blush that appeared on Masato’s face.

 

It took a moment. “Thank you.”

 

Masato finished the braid with a hair-tie. “There’s no need.”

 

Resting his hand on Camus’ shoulder, he had wanted to guide him to bed but was stopped short. Camus did not need a second to think before he slid his hand on top of the other to bring up to his lips. He turned to face his partner as he placed a kiss to each fingertip.

“Of course there is.” He muttered, his eyes cast down to gaze at their now entwined hands.

Camus loved Masato’s hands. These very hands worked hard each day but remained graceful and kind in everything they did. His chest tightened the slightest at this thought. Camus didn’t struggle with the weight of this love as much as he used to in the beginning. To love someone so intensely, to be loyal to someone that was not his Queen. Much time has passed for him to become comfortable in it, to get over himself and the heavy weight of his past that still affected his present.

As Masato chuckled to himself and place the warmth of his palm against Camus’ cheek, his thumb brushing the pale skin there, that’s when it hit him again.

Love is a mysterious thing.

A peck on the bridge of his nose from Masato.

Masato loved Camus’ nose. It sat tall and proud in the middle of the face Masato loved just as much. To even have the opportunity to love his partner as he did, Masato felt honored. Camus was and continues to be someone that Masato looks up to. Although he tries not to rely too heavily on him anymore, he had always been incredibly attentive to every piece of advice and criticism Camus gave in times past. The few times Masato had gotten to see the other at his cello: it took his breath away. It fueled his need and drive to be even an ounce worthy of being called an idol, an artist— for his group and for himself.

 

“...May I?” He breathed, inching closer to the man still sitting— being promptly pulled by the hand down to place a tender kiss on Camus’ lips.

Masato’s heart swole once more, brows furrowing slightly as he brought the only free hand he had to cup his partner’s cheek. Camus seemed to hold steadfast at the one he was already holding.

Nothing can come close to satisfying Masato in terms of showing his gratitude to Camus. The best he can do is continue to slowly shower him in the affection he lacked when Camus was young.

 

Familial, as Mai couldn’t stop talking about Alexander and how she’d like to play with him again when both the siblings had left the home.

“Camus was very kind, too,” she said with a smile.

 

The gears in his head had begun turning. Masato tried to think of a way the four of them could be together, just them. That’d be a dream to him.

Through the hesitance he noticed that afternoon, a fear that Masato himself feared Camus had, Masato also noticed an effort. Determination hid even further in his gaze. It was in the way the corners of Camus’ smile relaxed as the minutes passed between him and his sister. How when he spoke flatteries, the tension in his forehead faded the slightest and when Masato finally joined the trio he didn’t look impossibly relieved. Slightly so, but happier to see him.

Masato wished Camus to be comfortable.

 

Platonically, but there didn’t need to be much work for that. Alexander, Camus’ best and loyal friend, took care of it well enough. Masato trusted the Borzoi to continue supporting the man as he had all these years. He held immense respect for Alexander.

And then there was QUARTET NIGHT and now, STARISH.

Regardless, when Camus sometimes just needed another sturdy back to lean on—even if he doesn’t explicitly state so—Masato is ready to offer him just that at any time.

 

Now that he’s grown up, romantically…

 

A minute passed and Masato carefully pulled out of the chaste kiss to press his lips to Camus’ cheek, under the soft skin under his eye, on the top of his brow and went to whisper in his ear. Even though a short minute had passed, he was still left breathless.

It was time for bed.

 

“Come, let’s rest.”

   


**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you so much for reading! This piece was created for the 2018 Winter Utapri Flashbang hosted on Twitter and Tumblr! A huge thank you to Maia and the remaining admins that ran the event, I very much enjoyed creating and seeing everyone else's creations!
> 
> But lastly, an immense thank you to Te who kindly picked up my fic and created the beautiful art piece for this written work. It was a joy to work with them and you can find them on Twitter under username @FrillyDinosaur!
> 
> https://twitter.com/FrillyDinosaur
> 
> Here is the link to the art piece: https://twitter.com/FrillyDinosaur/status/1094075696056619010


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